


Werewolves. Why Did it Have to Be Werewolves?

by Popcornapocalypse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explanations, F/F, Fluff, Indiana Jones References, Movie Night, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popcornapocalypse/pseuds/Popcornapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because someone had to explain the whole werewolf situation to Ms. Blake, and if it turned into a movie night with Melissa McCall, well, let’s just say that wasn’t a problem at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Werewolves. Why Did it Have to Be Werewolves?

**Author's Note:**

> Written 6/28/13, so spoilers through 3x04

“Scott McCall?”

Scott turned around. “Yeah, Ms. Blake?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?” she asked, putting on a small smile as the rest of her students scrambled cheerfully out the door. To think only a day ago she had been, well, not as happy, but at least as ignorant as they were.

Scott nodded. He walked up to her desk looking slightly wary. “It’s not going to take too long is it? I need to get to cross country, Coach will be pissed—sorry—really mad at me if I’m late.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything.” She laughed nervously. “Just… What can you tell me about werewolves?”

There was a loud crash from the back of the room. She looked over to see Stilinski staring at her with wide eyes, a motorcycle gear (she was not going to ask) spinning slowly at his feet.

“I don’t recall asking you to stay Mr. Stilinski.” She floundered for a moment, trying to think of a believable excuse. “I, um, Scott’s extra credit project is very important—”

“It’s okay Ms. Blake,” Scott said gently. “He knows.”

Ms. Blake put her head in her hands. Why couldn’t she have gotten a job somewhere normal? What with the murders and the werewolves and the random men lurking in her classroom, it was like her life had turned into a TV show overnight. The only thing missing was the soundtrack, which was a shame because she really could have used a motivational theme song right about then.

“I suppose he’s a werewolf too?” she said unhappily.

“Nah, he’s just Stiles”

“Stiles whose lack of wolfy powers are going to get him stuck on the bench _again_.”

“Stiles, you can’t get benched from cross country,” Scott said, but started edging toward the door.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s _Finstock,_ you really wanna bet on it?” he said, then grinned. “Risk and reward and all that, come on Scott.”

Scott chuckled and asked, “You got a quarter?”

Stiles made a face. “Shut up.”

“Really sorry Ms. Blake, but we do need to go,” Scott said. “You should probably talk to my mom, she doesn’t have a shift tonight.”

And they were gone. So much for that idea. Sighing, she pulled out the school directory and flipped to the M section. At least she never had plans in the evenings. She didn’t think her students would mind too much if she skipped tomorrow’s pop quiz. After all, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. She paused, considering all the things she’d only found out the previous night, or, well, earlier that morning. Ugh, had she really not slept at all last night? She was exhausted.

“Bad figure of speech, bad. Go sit in a corner and think about what you’ve done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Ok Jennifer, you can do this.” She raised her hand to the McCalls’ front door then stopped. What the hell did one even say in this situation? Jennifer let her hand fall back to her side, staring at the closed door.

“Hi, nice to meet you. What do you know about werewolves?”

No, that wouldn’t do, Mrs. McCall would think she was insane. Not that she was particularly sure of her own sanity; she was standing talking to a _door_ for heaven’s sake. Oh, and there were werewolves in Beacon Hills High. She couldn’t forget _that_.

“I’m Jennifer Blake and I, um…” No, that was ridiculous, she was an English teacher; she would not _um._

“My name is Jennifer Blake and I’m here to talk to you about werewolves.”

That wasn’t really any better. She sighed and tried again. “Hi, I’m your son’s English teacher.” Yeah, that could work. “He said you might be able to explain why people are _turning into monsters_ and _trying to kill me!”_

“It looks like you’re taking this about as well as I did.”

Jennifer absolutely did _not_ squeak in surprise. She whirled around to see Mrs. McCall smiling tiredly at her from behind a bag of groceries and _oh_ that was just not fair. How on earth did the woman get to look that good when she was exhausted? Jennifer blushed. She _had_ just been caught talking to someone’s door; there was no other reason, none at all. She was _not_ going to be attracted to the mother of one of her students; that was decidedly not appropriate. She was probably married too, so it wouldn’t have been a good idea anyway. She glanced involuntarily at Mrs. McCall’s hands—no wedding ring. Jennifer was not going to get her hopes up over this, she was _not_ —

Mrs. McCall coughed.

“Sorry, I uh,” Jennifer sputtered, flush deepening.

 “I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced, but you probably know me as Scott’s mom. Please call me Melissa.”

Jennifer blinked at the hand Melissa held out to her. Quickly she put out her own before she could get caught staring again.

“Jennifer—Jennifer Blake, I teach English,” she said, trying to shake confidently. Of course Melissa had to have nice hands too. Her fingernails were neatly trimmed and her skin was amazingly soft.

“How do you keep your hands from drying out if you’re a nurse?” Jennifer blurted.

“Moisturizer,” said Melissa looking slightly pained, “but please don’t talk about my skin.”

Jennifer winced. “Sorry, I—” She realized she was still holding Melissa’s hand and quickly dropped it.

“No, it’s alright, just bad memories, and well,” she sighed, “werewolves.”

Jennifer started, paling again. Right, werewolves. That was why she was here. Not to attempt to flirt with the _parent_ of one of her _students._ Melissa hoisted her grocery bag onto her hip and brushed past Jennifer to unlock the door.

“Why don’t you come inside and we can talk while I put these away,” she said.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Then Jackson Whittemore, not the kanima anymore, moved to England and then everything was relatively peaceful over the summer, but now—”

“Hold on a second,” Jennifer interrupted, “just how many of my students are mixed up in this?”

She was seated at the McCalls’ kitchen table swirling the dregs of her tea around the bottom of her cup while Melissa did her best to explain the insanity that was Beacon Hills.

“Well, you already know Scott’s a werewolf,” Melissa paused. “It still sounds so weird to say that.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes.

“Anyway, Scott is, and Isaac Lahey, and I think he’s mentioned someone named Boyd?” Melissa said, tapping her fingers on the tabletop. “Stiles is human, but he knows, and so does Lydia Martin. Allison Argent, who may or may not be dating my son, her family are hunters—”

She stopped. “Oh, that reminds me, I have something for you.”

Melissa opened her purse and pulled out a small bottle.

“Here, wolfsbane pepper spray, courtesy of Stiles and Lydia,” she said, putting the bottle in Jennifer’s hand. Wolfsbane pepper spray…?

“As I was saying before, there’s a pack of alphas—those are the more powerful ones, remember? Scott says that two of them are…”

Jennifer stared blankly at the aerosol can as Melissa’s voice washed over her. She really did have a nice voice.

“Ms. Blake? Jennifer? Jennifer are you all right?” Melissa asked.

Jennifer looked up to see Melissa staring worriedly at her. One of Melissa’s hands was on her shoulder. When had that happened?

“No, of course you’re not. Come on then, up we go.”

Jennifer let herself be pulled to her feet and led over to the McCalls’ couch. Nothing made sense anymore. She hadn’t slept in two days and there were _werewolves_ and now she had a can of _wolfsbane pepper spray_. Why hadn’t she just gone _home_ last night? At least then she could have kept on pretending everything was okay.

“How do you deal with any of this?” she asked.

“When there isn’t an immediate crisis I do my best not to think about it,” Melissa said, dropping a pile of blankets on the couch. “Which is exactly what we’re going to do now.”

Jennifer looked from Melissa to the blankets and back again. That couldn’t actually be what she meant, but—

“I, uh, I mean, Stiles left a bunch of movies here,” Melissa rushed. She turned and started shuffling through the slightly haphazard stack, but not before Jennifer saw a touch of pink on her cheeks. Maybe she did have a chance after all. She pulled one of the fuzzier blankets onto her lap.

“All right, what do you have?” she asked.

Melissa sorted through the pile of movies, quickly setting most of them aside. “Hmmm… No, no, definitely not. Is there anything here that isn’t creepy or supernatural?” She shook her head. “What were they thinking? Aha! Here we go!” She held up a box victoriously before pushing the disk in.

“Raiders of the Lost Arc?” Jennifer asked.

“Who doesn’t like watching Harrison Ford beat up Nazis?” Melissa replied, sliding into the nest of blankets on the sofa.

Jennifer felt the corners of her mouth twitch up as Melissa’s cold toes poked at her knee. “Werewolves,” she said. “Why did it have to be werewolves?”

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by this quote: "Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?" (Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark)
> 
> Thanks to Ember for correcting my wacky dialogue grammar! Any advice/criticism/encouragement/general feedback would be awesome!


End file.
